


Love and the Bug

by Doctorinblue



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, Soft Boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 09:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20444531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctorinblue/pseuds/Doctorinblue
Summary: Hawkeye catches a summer bug





	Love and the Bug

"Hawkeye? Are you listening, Hawk?"

The words are muffled in Hawkeye's ears - as if BJ is underwater instead of a foot away. Exhaling slowly, Hawkeye releases his cup of cold coffee, and rubs at his too warm eyes (so heavy he isn't sure how they haven't closed shop). He sees BJ's mouth moving, the way his open and warm expression turns guarded and concerned. He wants to reach out, smooth away the worry, but he can't begin to find the energy to lift his arm. 

"Sorry, BJ," he mutters, pushing the mug away. "What were you saying?"

"I- it doesn't matter, Hawk. Are you okay? You look like hell."

"Charming," Hawkeye says and pushes himself up. "Think I'll order a wake-up call for next month."

"Walk you home?"

Hawkeye is tired and grateful and slips his arm around BJ at once. He still has enough self-control to not lay his head against his shoulder.

"Only if you don't kiss and tell."

"I'll be a perfect gentleman," BJ promises, and Hawkeye is walking on instinct alone. 

The walking rapidly turns to shuffle, and by the time they reach the Swamp BJ's arm has curled around his back, his hand bunching up Hawkeye's shirt. He lets himself lean on BJ a little more, and together they make it into the tent in one piece. BJ wiggles him over to his bed and he knows that he's not the only one exhausted. They'd spent the last twelve hours in surgery, but BJ's eyes are bright and hyper-focused on Hawkeye. He's probably halfway through diagnosing him and Hawkeye would love to save him the trouble but he can't seem to get his mouth in motion. 

He drops onto his cot, curling his arms up under his pillow, breathing in through the material. His chest aches and his stomach is seemingly closer to his throat, but he's in bed now and that's all-consuming.

At least until BJ touches him. 

BJ's hand brushes his hair back and he turns his head to feel the cold touch against this cheek and then BJ's hand settles over his forehead. It's both freezing and blissful and Hawkeye has to bite back a groan, leaving his eyes closed. At least the world spins a little less in the dark

"Temperature is up a little, Hawkeye," BJ says, his thumb stroking over Hawkeye's throbbing temple. 

"Mm," Hawkeye agrees. He can't seem to force his eyes open. "Summer."

He feels something cool and damp brush across his face and neck but he is already too far gone.

Hawkeye wakes up shivering, feeling as though hell has taken up residence somewhere in the region of his lungs. Coughing as silently as he can, Hawkeye manages to sit up and look around. Evening. It's dim, but not so dark that he can't look around the tent. BJ's in bed and Frank is nowhere to be seen. Actually, Hawkeye hasn't seen him since he popped in while Hawkeye was half awake, accused him of faking and ferreted his way out. 

BJ shifts. 

"You're awake?" BJ asks.

"Despite my best intentions."

He watches BJ sit up on his cot and look in his direction. Hawkeye suspects he wasn't actually asleep, and he feels a lash of guilt that is quickly replaced by the rolling in his stomach. He swallows several times, breathing slowly before he finally has control again. 

BJ heaves himself off his cot, returning to Hawkeye's side. In the low light, Hawkeye can see the dark patches under BJ's eyes, but he's all concern and business. He brushes his hand over Hawkeye's head, lingers against his skin as his brow knots up.

"You're burning up, Hawk," BJ says, settling into the chair. "We should move you to post-op. Keep a better eye on you."

"The only eye I want on me is yours, Beej."

BJ says nothing and if cornered Hawkeye will blame the fever and claim he's delirious. 

BJ seems to be lost in thought for a few moments. No, more likely he's locked in an internal debate, one side for giving in to Hawkeye's will and the other (the in control doctor) is already hauling him to post-op. Finally, he shakes his head, leans into Hawkeye's space. Hawkeye wants to caution him, warn him of the obvious reasons he should join Frank somewhere else, but Hawkeye is just selfish enough to want BJ here. 

Always.

"Let me examine you at least," BJ says. 

"It's the flu, Beej," Hawkeye says, forcing himself to sit up. 

The room sways and BJ's hand clasps over his shoulder. Hawkeye breathes until it's upright again. 

"I just want to be sure."

"I'm sure for both of us," Hawkeye says, pats at BJ's hand which hasn't left his shoulder. "Don't worry your pretty head."

Probably, Hawkeye should go back to sleep before he lets something far more honest slip out. BJ chuckles though and pulls his hand free of Hawkeye at last. 

"I'll see if I can find some food for you," he says. "You need your strength. Stay here, Hawkeye. I mean it."

Hawkeye gives a weak salute and settles himself back onto his cot. He doesn't want to admit the idea of food is nearly enough to have him running from the Swamp and to the latrine - but the slow breathing helps again. While BJ's gone, he allows himself to really suffer for a moment. Pulling the blankets up tighter, he rubs his hands over his sore and tight skin and lets himself cough freely. He's miserable, but sleep is hanging around the edge of his mind and he's all too eager to let it in. 

**MASH**

BJ settles into the chair, lets the soup grow cold...colder while Hawkeye sleeps. He doesn't have the heart to wake him just yet. He does lean in again, brush the wet hair off of Hawkeye's forehead. BJ sighs.

The door opens, BJ looks up expecting Radar or Colonel Potter. Instead, he finds Frank peeking his head in.

"Are you sure he's not just goldbricking," Frank asks, but doesn't move any closer to them.

"Frank," BJ says. "I'm warning you."

Frank jerks upright and shuffles his way into the tent, pulling pictures off the shelf.

"I'm just-"

"Frank!"

Frank jumps. BJ doesn't know where he's sleeping, and he can't begin to care, even as he watches Frank scurry off into the night.

He brushes the hair back from Hawkeye's face, strokes his thumb over his cheek and in the cover of night lets himself love him.


End file.
